8. AI friends are not preferable
8
AI FRIENDS ARE NOT PREFERABLE
“T hat’s incredible!” Will beams from the other side of the call, his eyes bright despite their milk chocolate hue.
It’s the first time in a long time I’ve felt like I have a genuine cheerleader on my side, not just a fair-weather friend hoping I get my shit together long enough so we can have six months of uninterrupted good times. I haven’t felt this supported since my grandmother.
“So what are your plans to impress her? You’ve got something in mind, don’t you?”
I grin. “Yeah, I think so. The more I learn about the manufacturing process, the more fascinated I am by it. And I think I have an easy solution to a problem.”
His thick brows pull together, but not in doubt or apprehension. “Please don’t take offense to this, because it’s an honest question, but… If it’s a simple solution to a problem why do you think no one’s thought of it before?”
I smile even wider. “Because it’s not really a problem they think is worth solving. Because it’s an absorbable cost. But I have a feeling that if this thing works, it could end up saving us a ton of money while keeping up the quality of our products now that we’ve scaled quite a bit since the company started using our current method of production. Plus, while it sounds like a factory’s responsibility to be more efficient, sometimes they don’t care so long as they’re getting paid and the client keeps coming back.”
“Really?” His brows shift, one raised, the other straight and stern and I wonder how wildly insane it is that I find eyebrows attractive now. Just his , actually. Everything about him, if I’m being honest. His deep voice, smooth and commanding, yet soothing. The broad shoulders I can tell lie beneath his button down shirt, opened at the collar after a long day of work. His short, brown, lightly curled hair that’s got my fingers wishing they could reach out through my phone screen just to run through it. Lips that make me want to sigh whenever I look at them, slightly larger than I imagined, but still masculine, utterly kissable, deliciously biteable. And that smile… A smile that made me thank my lucky stars I was seated because it made me immediately lose all feeling in my legs—while gaining a pulsating one in between them. It’s safe to say that the first time I laid eyes on Will my brain short-circuited because I have never been more attracted to a man before in my life.
And I fucking showed up on camera in a sweat suit, no makeup, and messy hair.
God, I’m such a loser.
“Bridge, that’s amazing! If you’re able to solve a problem no one knew they had and can save the company more money, you’ll be worshiped. I bet it’s the perfect thing to make you stand out from the rest of the new hires.”
“I know! And I really wanna impress my boss. She’s this fire-breathing dragon of a goddess and I know I can learn so much from her.”
He shakes his head in amazement. “I’m in awe of you, Bridget Quinn.”
I blush once again, something that’s become normal since speaking to him. “Why do you say that?”
“Because. You’re so passionate about this whole thing. And it’s easy to see you’ve hit the ground running. You’re incredible.” His smile is heartbreaking because I want it to be mine. I want him to be mine. And that is psychotic because, for the millionth time I have to remind myself Will and I have never met.
“Hey. How do I know you’re not some AI bot that’s gone rogue?” I ask, 99.99% serious.
Will huffs out a laugh, his eyes widening. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I mean…” I sigh. “How do I know you’re real? What if you’re like this super duper advanced AI bot who was on the email trails to record and write briefs on company correspondence or something? And you replied to my email because I broke an email etiquette rule your programmer told you about so you felt the need to tell me about it? And what if we just kept talking because?”
He presses his lips together, trying hard not to laugh. “What about this call? How do you explain the video chat?”
I shrug, looking away, not wanting to tell him that the video chat is what added to my “he can’t be real” theory. A man that gorgeous being that kind to me? History has taught me not to trust this.
“Stevenson is a very big company with deep pockets. You could be one of those video AI people. I don’t know!” A product of generative AI having pulled every single handsome man in the world and made this one, specific, perfect specimen just for me.
He’s quiet for a moment, processing. Maybe the chip where his mainframe is located is shorting because someone’s finally found him out. Or maybe he doesn’t even know he’s an AI bot. Maybe we’re in the middle of a Cylon type of situation. He can’t be real.
“Bridge.” His voice is soft, imploring. “Look at me, please.”
It takes me a couple of seconds, but I manage to turn my face back to the screen, tears stinging behind my eyes.
“What part of this doesn’t feel real?” he asks. Sad, wary eyes stare back, and it kills me.
The simple fact that, so far, this relationship has been a texting one, for one.
“Last night could’ve ruined everything,” I whisper. One of us had to bring it up, rip off the Band-Aid. “What we did…” I shake my head. “It’s dumb, but since meeting you I’ve realized that the people in my life I thought were my ride or dies… aren’t. My life has never been without drama, and though they understand it’s never been as a consequence of my own actions, I can see the way people pull away, not wanting to be dragged into my problems. And I guess it’s my fault for picking the wrong type of people as friends—I see that now—but somehow the universe led me to you and… You have made me feel so safe, so heard and seen even when we didn’t even know what we looked or sounded like… And just…” A tear runs down my cheek, making me hate myself a little. “I don’t want to lose whatever weird thing this is.” I finish my rant with a sniff and another damn tear, waiting anxiously for his response.
It doesn’t come for a few minutes. In fact, I wait so long I begin to wonder whether he is an AI bot after all and he’s having connectivity issues—or maybe his creators never thought to program him to deal with a psychotic woman like myself. Until…
“It’s definitely unconventional, this thing we have. We’ve talked about it at length. And last night…” He blows out a breath. “I’m not gonna deny I didn’t enjoy it, Bridge. Because I fucking did. I don’t want to make you feel more uncomfortable than you already do, but in the spirit of honesty, I got off to the memory of it this morning, too. It was hot .”
Not as hot as my cheeks are now , I think.
“But I’m not gonna lie, the longer you went without texting back, the more and more I thought about how what we did might’ve made you run away from me, the less I thought it was worth it. This might sound super fucking weird—believe me, I know—but I… care about you. And like you said, we’re friends. Human friends, by the way—I’m definitely not an AI robot. So how about we agree to never do what we did again? And just… continue to be there for each other? Because, Bridge, having you pop in my life the way you did… It’s what I needed. You’re who I needed. I was… not well. And now I am. Because of you.”
I nod, sniffling. If I’m honest, I’m a little upset he didn’t fight me on it a bit more. Clearly, he isn’t as into me romantically as I am him. Getting off to the memory of sexting someone is not the same. From what I gather, he probably did share my crush, but one look at me was enough to kick him of the habit.
“I needed you, too, Will. More than you know.”